The Diary Of Morgan Land
by Sparrow Quill
Summary: FINISHED Morgan Land is the upperclass daughter of an aristocrat. But when she meets Jack Sparrow, she is willing to sacrafice everything she has to join his crew and find a new life.
1. Days One To Ten

Morgan Land

Day One:  
It wasn't supposed to turn out like this! Mama and Papa sent for me from the Spanish bay. I was supposed to stay in Belfast until my schooling was finished, but Mama missed me too much.  
Still, crossing from the Kingdoms to the Colonies was meant to be simple matter. A long wait on a ship, a storm or two and we were there. Yes, I am a bad luck charm. But pirates? Surely the life of simple Morgan Land was too small a matter to concern pirates!  
No, no I am being unreasonable. Our vessels are loaded with jewels, mostly my own though I detest the varmints. So maybe being marooned has one advantage; no jewels and countless hours for swimming. But I still hate captain Hughes. I will never speak to him again, or his bloody son.  
  
Day Two:  
Anabella, my maidservant, still insists we bathe every day. Since we are entirely surrounded by men, we have to trek thirty minutes along this god-forsaken island's coast just to get some privacy! Anabella insists that corsets, shifts and bodices are still in order, but I don't see the need.  
We are not the only women on the island. Katherinne Hughes, the captain's wife, is also among us. As well there are three chambermaids, and a she-pirate, Anna-Maria.  
Anna-Maria is ebony skinned with long black hair. She is the whore of our jailer, Mr. Captain Jack Sparrow. He is the most detestable man on earth! He stinks of rum and cannot walk a straight line without the assistance of his rag-tag crew.  
Stupid good-for-drinking-sad-excuse-for-a-captain-hits-on-every-woman-and-me-included git.  


Day Three:  
Ugh! Mr. Captain Jack Sparrow wont leave me alone! Honest to drunkenness, he is disgusting! Yes, alright, he is only seven years senior to me but you would think a man with a she-pirate whore could contain himself, even if he is a tribute to perpetual drunkenness.  
  
Day Four:  
I cannot keep Mr. Captain Jack Sparrow (who requests I call him Captain Sparrow) out of my head! Curses to his charisma!  
No, what am I writing? I must stop this.  
I spoke with Anna-Maria. I will, with a sigh, admit that she is not a whore, which may, by a sliver of reason, excuse Captain Sparrow's shameless hitting on both myself and Anabella (who is fourteen years his senior.)  
And Anna-Maria.  
And Katherinne.  
And Jacqueline, Laure, and Belle (the chambermaids.)  
  
Day Five:  
I cannot believe it! I kissed Jasper Hughes. I kissed the captains son!  
It was the rum's fault. I swore I'd never speak to him again, since it was his stupid idea to allow the black pearl to longside us. But I suppose it hardly matters since I've kissed him twice before.  
He's about the one age with me, and has curly brown hair. He is admirable, but not to the extent of Captain Spa-  
No.  
I.  
Do.  
Not.  
Like.  
The.  
Pirate.  


Day Six:  
Anabella and I had to give up her corset laces because we needed something to use as fishing line. I'm freeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!  
Jasper has still not spoken to me. I must admit that I am relieved; I would be too embarrassed to speak to him now.  
Bloody rum.  
Anabella and Captain Hughes have been trying to figure out a way to signal the navy to search our island. They cannot set a large fire because Captain Sparrow will notice, and he has good reason to want to avoid the navy.  
Still, he owes us freedom. He boards our ship, takes us captive, plunders our possessions, then shipwreck's into jagged rocks!  
He says as soon as The Black Pearl is repaired we'll be off. As to where, he did not say.  


Day Seven:  
It all seems surreal. The Black Pearl is gone. It must have been Anabella, or perhaps Captain Hughes. It was set afire in the night. Not only did the smoke send up a signal, but now Captain Sparrow has no way to retreat from the white sails that now illuminate the ocean all around us.  
I should be happy. And I suppose, in a way, I am. But I feel terrible. Mr. Sparrow (whom I no longer have to address as "captain" because he is no longer my jailer!!!) is headed for the gallows. But I miss my family and my old life, and its all Sparrow's fault that I've been away so long. Papa will hang him, I have no doubt. Unless...  
No.  
NO.  
NO!!!  
No, no, no, no, no, NO!  
I will not meddle around this time.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Morgan seems to be suffering from STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, where a prisoner begins to identify with his or her captors.  


Day Eight:  
OH BOY-O! OH ME-OH MY! Have I ever screwed myself over now! But let me start at the beginning...  
Anna-Maria came up to me as the navy ships drew closer.  
"Morgan, please! Cant you make us a bargain?" I looked at my shoeless feet (my shoes were stolen) which reminded me these were pirates I was talking to (because they're the ones who stole my shoes.)  
"I am not in any position to strike a bargain, Madame." I said in my most proper and even voice. I held my head level to hers so I would neither seem up nor down. Diplomatic speech. Mama taught me.  
Enter Mr. Sparrow.  
"Well luv," he spat drunkenly, "looks like you've done a first-rate job of putting my head in a noose." He clapped me on the back and I jumped at his touch, "Well done mate!"  
That's what broke me.  
Now don't go thinking I've no interest in plea bargains. I'm the daughter of a diplomat and have been bartering lives my whole life, but when Mr. Sparrow summed up this whole thing like it was simple as all that, well that just gave me this awful hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.  
"Mr. Sparrow," I stood on my toes to be at equal height with his drunkard's slouch, "I did not burn your boat, I have not put your head in a noose and who, may I inquire, has summed up that I refuse to help you?"  
"But-" Anna-Maria stammered, "but you just said-"  
"I said I wasn't going to help YOU." I turned back to Mr. Spa- to Jack.  
"Mr. Sparrow-"  
"CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, luv, Captain..."  
"Well, fine, Captain Jack Sparrow," I proceeded, "I will help you and your crew in exchange for your hat."  
Yep, that's what I said.  
I don't know why I said it, it just slipped out.  
"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Land." he said. "I'll buy you a new hat. A real nice one."  
I thought a moment. "Fine, that and one of your beads."  
He smiled. He had so many gold teeth. "Agreed!"  
His handshake was firm, and I trembled while we shook.  
"Right then," I said "follow me."  
  
Day Eight Continued:  
When my father's ship, The Imprintor, anchored offshore some, Jack and his crew hid themselves within the jungle. Such a cover is fine, but only for about three hours. So I called for help and pretended to be hysterical. Papa was quickly brought ashore and could hardly contain his joy at finding me. I must admit that for some reason I was not at all happy to see him, what with thoughts of Jack and Anna-Maria ebbing on my mind. By the time I was on board and in a stateroom "recovering", the redcoaters were searching the jungle. All of them, every single one. Bloody fools.  
That in itself made it oh-so-easy to slip down into the barrack prison.  
I know the cells inside out, and I know how easy it is replace the hinge nail-pins with embroidery needles. It swings plain and easy- for about four times. It's easy for prisoners inside to remove them without making noise, so long as someone has bent their ends up. Which, may I add, I did rather well.  
Then I stashed Jack's dagger under a sliver of wood.  
Done.  
As I crept back over the twilit deck to my room, I could see the silhouettes of the crew being clapped into irons and dragged to boats. Jack among them.  
So now I'm alone in an atrociously over-furnished state room, waiting.  
And wouldn't it be fitting, I have only Jack's bead on a leather chain to keep me company.  


Day Nine:  
Has a boy ever told you that you've thrust a dagger into his heart and killed him? Jasper Hughes used to say that to me. He said I'd broken his spirit, and he would always love me. He said I'd pierced his heart.  
Now I really have.  
And I've left the Imprintor in a rower with a crew of pirates.  
And I've made my life go off in a totally different direction.  
And I will never be able to see my parents again.  
And worse than all that is what I said to Mr. Captain Jack Sparrow.  


Day Nine Continued:  
I was waiting in my room by the door, fully clothed and armed with a stolen pistol (don't even ask.)  
When I heard the commotion outside, I flung the door open. There was Anna-Maria fencing a redcoat, Mr. Cotton shooting a decker, and Jack cutting the ropes of a rower.  
Oh, and Jasper Hughes threatening him with a dagger.  
Jack Or Jasper.  
Sophie's choice.  
So what was I supposed to do? "Jasper?" I cried, "Jasper, stop! No, stop!"  
He didn't stop.  
I pulled out the pistol. Someone called my name in the distance. Jasper drew closer to Jack. I breathed hard.  
I pulled the trigger.  
Jasper Hughes fell crumpled on the floor. Anna-Maria whipped past me and grabbed my arm as she ran. The rest is a blur, but somehow I ended up in a fleet of seven rowers headed back to the island I had just left.  
Yeah, life is good.  


Day Ten:  
When dawn broke we pulled the boats up on shore and scrapped together a shelter out of palm leaves. Then I hiked out down the shoreline to the spring where Anabella and I used to bathe. I removed my new corset and my hairpins, which served nicely as rigs to make my own small bathing shelter.  
I was barely done folding my gown when I heard a rustle coming from the pathway. As I spun around (in nothing but my shift), my bead flew off it's leather chain and into the pool.  
I stared into the rippling water. The bead was gone. I uttered a foul oath under my breath.  
"That's not the kind of language you'd expect of a lady, now is it?" I reeled around and lost my footing.  
Splash.  
I jutted my head up a notch and saw Captain Jack Sparrow standing next to my bathing shelter, laughing.  
"You," I spluttered through my mass of wet hair, "you made me loose my bead!"  
He laughed again. "If I recall correctly, Miss Land, that would be MY bead!" This time I laughed too. I raised my hand in his direction.  
"Here, help me up." He took my hand and I pulled him in with me. "Hah, that shows you!" He didn't come back up. "Jack... Jack?"  
HE SPAT IN MY FACE!  
He actually spat water in my face!  
I spluttered again through my dark wavy hair. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me under. When I struggled back up, I fumbled for his shoulders and accidentally grabbed his beads.  
"Oy, luv, you lost yours of your own accord." I brushed my hair away from my eyes and looked into his. "Why you want that bead is beyond me."  
"It's not the bead I want," I said without thinking, "it's the pirate."  
I stared into his eyes. He wrapped his arms around my waist. They seemed to fit there so perfectly. He leaned closer to me.  
Suddenly remembered my parents, and I remembered that I would never see them again. And I remembered that it was all the fault of this pirate holding me in his arms like I was his own.  
He leaned closer to me. He was going to kiss me. So he thinks.  
"Sorry, Jack."  
I drew a breath. As he leaned in closer I ducked out of his arms and under the water. I swam away faster than I'd ever swam before.  
I had just blown off the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. 


	2. Days Eleven To Fourteen

Day Eleven:  
Jack indiscreetly avoided my all day. He only spoke to me when occasion made it impossible to avoid, and then he would only say things like "Hand me that rope." and "Where in hell is Anna-Maria?"  
I would occasionally responding saying things like "Fine." and "I don't know."  
Oh yeah. That's real deep conversation.  
But life has a way of spiting me, and fate has a way of thrusting me into conversations I specifically try to avoid.  
We were hauling one of the rowers up to the shelter when Carello (a tall greasy pirate of Jack's breed) motioned us over.  
"You two've not been out fishin'. Thar's a rower on the beach." He tipped his hat. "Madame. Captain."  
So what choice did I have? I got the 'fishing spears' (actually sharp rocks tied to bamboo sticks with corset laces) and set off in a rower. I thought things were going quite well (well as in no talking) until...  
Bloody pirate.

Day Eleven Continued:  
His silence was too loud. I know that sounds silly buy its true. His breathing was raspy and I could almost hear my heart beating. As we dove down his boot lace caught around my ankle. I panicked, but he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me to the surface.  
I gasped frantically. "Your stupid boots almost killed me!" I spat.  
He frowned. "Well luv, you near enough kicked the bejeebers outta me when you swam away yesterday."  
"What's the matter, never had a girl blow off your oily advances before?" I struggled with the bootlace still caught around my ankle. "Dammit, Jack, can't you untie me?"  
"Whatever you say, luv."  
He dove under (he dives SO well!) and gently (OH SO gently) untied his lace from my ankle. He ran his fingers over the red, raw skin. I trembled.  
When he surfaced again, I stared at him. "Jack? I..." He turned. "I'm sorry." He smiled, and wrapped his arms around my waist.  
Major deja vu.  
"Forgive me," he said, "if I admit that I'd love to..." his lips brushed over my cheeks and eyelashes "...love you."  
He drew closer to me. I pushed all thoughts of my parents out of head. His lips brushed against mine.  
We kissed.  
I wound his beads around my fingers, he pushed his hands through my hair. Then we stopped. I heard calling in the distance. We both looked up.  
There was a ship on the horizon, sailing from the far side of the island. Jack let go of me and raised his hands in the air.  
I climbed back into the boat. "Jack?" he stopped waving and hauled himself into the boat. "Who were you waving at?"  
"Hand me the oars."  
I did, without question, and he rowed us out to the ship. And what a ship! It was a good, solid-looking boat equipped on each side with four long-nines. It had a tall mast and glistening pearl-white sails. The words Ebony Swann glinted, carved into the woodwork and illuminated in silver paint.  
And a tall, handsome man was standing on the crow's nest.  
"Ahoy!" he shouted "Jack Sparrow!"  
Jack smiled, showing his many gold teeth. "Turner!" He turned to me. "Luv, 'd like you to meet my good friend, William Turner."  


Day Eleven Continued:  
Once we were brought on board, Jack and William had a rather brotherly reunion. Apparently they went on some sort of adventure a time back when Jack reacquired The Pearl. Jack seemed to forget I was even with him, until he spotted me leaning against the siderail.  
"Oh, Turner, this here's Morgan Land, mate."  
I smiled. "Hello, Mr. Turner." We shook hands. "Do you go by William or Liam?"  
He seemed flustered. "Uh, Will."  
"Your English?"   
He nodded.  
I shook my head. "Bloody fools, the lot of you." Jack laughed from behind me, and pulled me to him by the waist.  
"This here's the daughter of Governor Swann's advisor. As to how we came to meet..." he paused, "long story, mate." He looked around curiously. "So how'd you come by this vessel?"  
Will smiled. "Elizabeth-"  
Jack cut him off. "Where is she!?"  
"Below decks."  
"Well I ASSUMED as much, mate. I mean WHERE?"  
Will motioned for us to follow him below. The staterooms were damp, dimly-lit, and dirty. There were four rooms and an area for provisions, but it had nothing on the stately Imprintor. We followed Will through one of the doors into a brighter, more feminine stateroom. A woman near the one age with me was sitting in the corner (seemingly VERY pregnant) painting a small canvas on an easel.  
"Elizabeth!" Jack cried, "Darling!" She looked up and turned ghost white.  
"Jack!" she gasped, "J- Jack Sparrow!" Liam-wait, no,- WILL began to laugh. So did Jack, showing his many gold teeth. I love his gold teeth.  
  


Day Eleven Continued:  
"Elizabeth, this is my very good friend Morgan Land. Her father would be the famous Councillor James Land." He slid his arms around my waist again.  
"James Land?" She looked at me, "I've known him my whole life!" She sprang to her feet and extended her hand to me. I pulled away from Jack's clutches to shake it. "You- wait, I remember you! The Jennings's bay peace treaty- you bartered the trading routes with my father!"  
I gasped. "Bethie Swann?" She nodded. "YES! Oh, right, we were, what, fourteen?"  
"Fifteen" Jack interjected.  
We all turned to face him.  
"Fifteen" he repeated casually. "I wouldn't sail to hell and back and not remember the time a fifteen-year-old girl single-handedly sunk my ship."  
I gasped. "I did what?"  
Elizabeth sank into her chair. "You did what?"  
Will just stared. "You... She..."  
"So you were..." I counted, "...twenty-two?" He nodded. "And..." Then I remembered. "YOU! You're the captain of the Pinnacle!" He nodded. I frowned, remembering how rude he had been to myself and the council members. And he had known all along. Jerk! I walked toward him and slapped him stingingly across the face.  
As I climbed the stairs to the high-deck I heard him saying, "No, mate, I definitely deserved that."  


Day Twelve:  
We spent the night on the boat. Jack apologized to me (several times) in the morning. By the time I'd finally forgiven him we were anchoring offshore of our campsite. 

Its strange that I didn't remember him, since he was so unbearably rude to us, and since I was the one who gave the command to fire on his ship. Its even stranger, though, that he actually TOLD me. Of all the rum-drinking womanizers on the planet, he seems so good at playing the wiser, so I just cant see the logic in him actually TELLING me.

Anna-Maria slapped him when she found out he was safe. She was angry, since the crew had thought Jack and I were dead, or otherwise just 'together', which is too embarrassing to write here, since, yes, it is true.

I SHOULD be angry with him. I SHOULD never speak to him again. Why? Well, in all logic, because it just makes sense, dammit.

REASONS I SHOULD NOT KISS (OR DO 'ANYTHING ELSE' TO) JACK:

1. He is a womanizer

2. He was rude to me way back when

3. This mess is all his fault

4. He takes it for granted that I will just let him kiss me

5. He is a rum drinker (I can smell it off him)

6. He is an outlaw, and has made me one too!

7. He is SO different from me, I have no real reason to love him

8. His advances have been quite cliché

9. He has 'done' Anna-Maria (repeatedly) so says the crew, so what's stopping him from doing it again?

10. He wont remember me in a week

REASONS WHY IS SHOULD KISS (OR DO 'ANYTHING ELSE' TO) JACK:

1. I want to - dear God do I want to.

Day Thirteen:

We are finally off that god-forsaken island!Will gathered the crew aboard. We are sailing for-get this-an island that cannot be found, EXCEPT by those who already know where it is! So, let me ask, HOW was it found in the first place?  
I like to sit on the bearing of the Ebony Swann. It's just that- a swan, painted black, with silver eyes. If I sit up there, there's just enough room for me to gather my skirts about me, and nobody bothers me there. Its a great place to sit and try to sort out this whole mess of emotions concerning Jack.  
Except this evening Will climbed up there, and was duly shocked to see me sitting on his boat bearing.  
"Oh," I blushed, "sorry. I'll leave..."  
He raised his hand. "No, no. You can stay." I smiled at him. His face was gentle. "I often come up here to think. I see you've found it quite a nice private place too."  
I nodded. "Up here I can try to figure out what I'll do about Ja- well, about my future now."

He looked puzzled. "Are you and Jack..."

"No!" My response made him (and me!) jump in surprise. I took a breath. "No, no... he longsided our boat about ten days ago. Then we shipwrecked onto that island back there..." he looked as if he knew something I didn't, "We were fishing! We were spearfishing when you found us..." He nodded knowingly. "Don't make me slap you too!"

Will laughed. "Jack... well... I wouldn't be surprised if you and him were-"

"We are NOT!"

"Whatever you say..."

I wrung my hands in frustration. "You... I really do not like you!" He laughed again, and this time I did too. "Look, William, Jack hasn't really been a knight in shining armour to me."

"No," he said, "but..."

"Look, can we just DROP this?" I cried. He nodded, and climbed back down to the deck.

Now I have to be his friend- he knows too much.

Day Fourteen:

It has been two weeks since my life was turned upside down. I have kissed the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. I have killed a sailor. I have aided in piracy. And I have never felt more alive.

This morning Jack stumbled into my room carrying a bottle of Port. "Good morning, luv."

I sighed, clapping my hand to my forehead. "Jack, did it EVER occur to you that maybe I would want to get dressed before you barge in on me in the morning?"

He smiled. "As a matter of fact it did, luv." Jack pressed the cold bottle into my hands. "Breakfast!" And with a tipsy turn, he was gone.

I shook my head and climbed out of bed. I've taken to wearing only my shift with a long jacket and a belt-sash. Its much more comfortable than a full-fledged gown, and I can swim in it.

So our destination? Isla d'Oscuridad, apparently laden with treasure.

Cliché, even if I do day so myself.

I told this to Jack.

He frowned. "Well that's not very nice."

His eyes are so beautiful.

Sigh.

Once I was dressed, I headed across the deck to the bearing. But when I heard voices coming from the deck next room, I stopped and perked my ears. Jack and Will's voices drifted through the paper-thin walls.

"We can't drag either one to Oscuridad!" Will breathed frantically. "Neither one was ever a blood-bearer. And Elizabeth ..." he trailed off.

"She's your girl, mate." Jack said airily. "Not to be questioning your honesty, man, but I think you'd better inform her before you anchor your ship off a point of scarce return and go in all on twosies, savvy?" 

I heard someone sigh. "This is why we cant be friends." Will said, "I have absolutely no idea what you just said."

"Swings both ways mate," Jack commented, "sometimes I cant make bloody head or tail of you."

They were silent for a moment.

Then Will spoke. "What of Miss Land? Can she make it at Oscuridad?"

"Morgan?" Jack said, "Morgan is consciously naïve. She's aristocracy, savvy?"

I clenched my fists. Consciously naïve? Who does he think he is?

That's when I made up my mind.

I'm going.

Jack and Will are leaving by rower tomorrow and I'm following. I'll be dammed if I wait on some blacksmith-turned-pirate's ship and let Sparrow call me an aristocrat.

I'm more than that.


	3. Days Fifteen To Twenty

Day Fifteen,

I am naïve. Or at least presumptuous. Why did I figure I could handle this?

Isla d'Oscuridad, apparently, is cursed with shadow. So, anyone who had not owed blood to the Heathen gods is affected by it.

It starts with weakness. Your energy begins to lull. Then you loose you ability to walk, then to even sit or stand. Finally, you pass into sleep. And then if your not off that island soon, you never wake up.

I'm sitting behind a bush clinging to its branches so I can stay upright. My left hand fumbles in my pocket for my pistol. But let me start at how I got here.

Jack and Will left early. I followed. They docked at the beach on Oscuridad. I followed, feeling fine. They trekked a course through a sparse palm-tree jungle. I followed, stumbling every now and then and feeling just a tad weak.

They came upon a small hut. Inside was an iron box , which Will (and only Will, apparently) could open with ease. Inside there was a smooth grey stone with some numbers and coordinates etched into it.

Will and Jack decided they had what they came for. They began to trek back. As they did someone emerged from the jungle, a tall, spindly man with sunburnt wrinkled skin and a rather bulbous nose.

"I s'pose your not to be rememberin' me, Jack Sparrow."

Jack frowned. "Well not in any particular sense, no. But I must say that overall you're a splendid cliché. Now if you'll excuse us," He reached for his pistol. The holster was empty.

"Looking for these?" The man asked cynically, drawing up a burlap sack of their belongings. "I don't do my own thieving, gents, but I have a rather unlikely accomplice." He whistled, and as he did a monkey flew down to his shoulder from the trees above. "My brother'd be the nice ol' chap you killed back on Isla de Muerta. You may not remember me, Jack Sparrow. I be Henson Barbossa."

Jack opened his mouth. "I'm absolutely thrilled to meet you, sir, and might I say your brother was quite a-"

"Give me the box."

They handed it over. "Now," Henson said, "If you'll be excusing me, I have some treasure to find. Oh but I cant have the two of you tagging at my heels now can I? My brother made the same mistake twice so I'm not likely to make it for him again." He pointed his pistol at Jack.

Which brings me to the aforementioned situation. I managed to get the pistol out of my pocket.

I've killed before, so why was this so hard? Maybe it was just the darkness taking hold of me, but I couldn't aim it. Not at all. I shot blind, but surprisingly, my shot hardly missed Barbossa by a hair. Startled, he fled.

My eyes got heavy. I fell back into the underbrush. My vision began to fade. Suddenly Jack was standing over me, and as I slipped into blackness, I heard him say "I guess aristocrats have their uses."

Day Sixteen,

I am told that I slept uneasily through this day, while periodically calling out Jack's name in my sleep.

Day Seventeen,

I woke up to see Jack standing over me. I squinted and looked around, realizing that I was back in my stateroom aboard the Ebony Swann (feeling somewhat disoriented). I could see the sun setting through the porthole.

"I do believe that I owe you another bead." Jack said the moment I came to.

"What?"

"You saved my life again. I owe you another one."

I smiled and slowly sat up. My eyes came into focus. "How long was I out?" I asked through a yawn.

"The rest of the day you remember luv, and one more after that. Elizabeth said you'd make it for sure but her dearest William was somewhat less hopeful."

I blushed. What had Will told Jack while I was unconscious? I slid my feet out of bed to the cold floor and tried to take a step. My knees gave way and I stumbled.

Jack caught me in his arms. He stood as I righted myself. I looked up into his eyes, longing to kiss him. "Thank you." I breathed.

He smiled and drew me close. Our bodies pressed against each other. His arms wrapped around the small of my back. He leaned closer. "Forgive me."

This kiss was gentle but amazing, better than the one before it. He kisses like a shooting star. We kissed for so long it seemed like the world fell down around us. I forgot completely the events in Oscuridad. I didn't notice the sun dip beneath the horizon. I didn't notice the sky darken from twilight to midnight. I didn't notice the ship rocking slowly from the waves of the ocean outside my room. I didn't notice his fingers gently undo the front of my dress. I hardly noticed him pull my shift down about my shoulders and to the floor.

You might think in hindsight, one would regret doing something like that to someone like him. So why, as I write this, do I have such an urge to do it all over again?

Day Eighteen,

When I awoke in the morning I pretended to still be sleeping. From where I lay I could see Jack putting on his hat and jacket. When he had collected all of his "effects" he strolled toward the bed and gently lay a bead on the nightstand. Then he left.

I stood up. My shift and belt were on the floor where I left them. I quickly dressed, and as I did, silently thanked God that Will thought someone of my stature should be given her own stateroom. I tied the bead around my neck on a string, hoping that this time the unlikely jewel would suffer a more pleasant and prolonged fate than its predecessor.

When I stepped outside my door I ran into Will. "Miss Land!" he said, sounding more disappointed at my being well than surprised. But who could blame him?

I smiled. "Good morning, William." Then I began to feel nervous. Would he wonder why Jack spent the night in my room? He had that look in his eyes again, like he knew something I didn't. "Elizabeth commanded that you always have someone watching over you in case you woke up."

I relaxed a little. He knew of nothing. Jack was to spend the night there regardless. Will can really make me jumpy in that respect. "So where are we headed?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Henson Barbossa's headed for Singapore so that's where we'll follow. He can lead us to my father's inheritance."

I frowned. "Now tell me, sir, if I am too prying, but why would a young and respectable man like yourself need a pirate's plunder so badly? Wouldn't you rather have a nice house in some port somewhere with Elizabeth and your child?"

He sighed. "You'd think so."

He lifted the provision box and climbed the staircase to the deck. I followed.

"Morgan!" I turned around to see Anna-Maria. She smiled wryly. "We owe you our captain." I smiled back, grateful that I was needed. But then I began to wonder if I has bought her more than I bargained to. Were those rumours true? Had they ever, well, had Jack and Anna-Maria ever-?

I have to stop being so questioning. I'll drive myself to insanity. Jack wouldn't. Not now. Not after last night.

We've been following Barbossa all day. The Ebony Swann is quite fast, about the one speed with Henson's The Avenger. So I suppose we'll catch him.

Day Nineteen,

We docked in Singapore. Will set off with seven crewmen to find out what Henson Barbossa was up to. Jack set out to find the cheapest source of rum. He took myself, Gibbs, and Anna-Maria with him. We ventured all over that stinking port town from bar to bar, each one filthier than the next.

We came to a bar called The Tuna Shack. Inside, Jack proceeded to shamelessly hit on the barmaid (so called Aletté) when he thought Anna-Maria and I weren't looking.

This evoked a deathly rage.

It's a tribute more to my parental upbringing that I was able to contain my rage until that night. Aletté was apparently the owner of all the provisions we needed, and was looking for adventure. So she supplied us with what we needed in exchange for being allowed to travel with us. Now she was on board and Jack and I were standing alone, at night, on the stern of The Ebony Swann.

He put his arms around me. 

I felt so mixed up. I was so angry that he'd play me the very day after… that. I felt so betrayed. But I wanted him so bad. Wanted to kiss him, wanted to touch him. Is that love or just lust?

I pulled away. "Don't touch me."

He raised his eyebrows. His eyes make me weak in the knees. He placed his hand on my shoulder and caressed my cheek softly. I was so torn. I wanted to make him hurt like he'd made me feel, but I wanted him to go on and on…

"I think I hear the barmaid calling you."

"Forgive me, love." Love. He said it more like the emotion than the careless dialect term he usually uses it as. It made me even angrier. How can he just assume I'll accept that as an apology?

"Don't go trying that on me!" I shouted. My voice echoed and I remembered that we were outside. I turned on my heel and fled to my room.

As soon as I got there, I realised Jack had followed me.

"Leave me alone!"

"Come, luv, just give me time to explain!"

I clenched my fists. "Stupid rum-drinking man-whore."

He fumbled angrily at his holster "Bloody slut of an aristocrat!"

I slapped him hard across the face, and he grabbed my wrist.

We both paused, glaring angrily at each other. I was breathing hard. His grip on my wrist was painfully tight and his face was red where I had slapped him. I bit my lip to keep from crying. I was so angry.

Suddenly he kissed me.

And what's even more perplexing is that I kissed him back.

We didn't kiss gently, either. Once again his chest pressed hard against me. Once again his fingers found there way to undo my shift.

Day Twenty,

I woke early. The sky was still dim, and I could hear the muffled sounds of the crewmen walking above deck. My shift and belt lay folded on the nightstand. Jack was gone, and anyone who saw the room would have no idea he had ever been there, much less spent the night.

It was raining when I stepped outside. I drew my jacket close around me. A grey fog engulfed The Swann. Will was back. He had followed Henson Barbossa through to the wee hours of the morning, and managed to steal a glance 

Anna-Maria told me that Jack had left with Gibbs and Aletté to collect provisions from The Tuna Shack. This did not make me happy. I had wanted to speak with Jack this morning. Not about anything in particular, I just wanted to talk.

As I was heading down to my room to warm up, Elizabeth stopped me. She was ghost white and out of breath. "Morgan!" she gasped, "Where's Will?"

"What's wrong?"

"I, well, my baby's coming!" She sounded frantic.

"Huh?" I gasped stupidly, "Uhh, alright, go lie down in your stateroom. I'll go get Will." I dashed up the stairs onto the deck. "Will!" I cried in his direction. He turned, looking tired.

"What?!" He spat.

"Elizabeth's having her baby!" He dropped the rope he was holding and we ran, shoes clattering against the wood, down the stairs, below decks. He strode quickly into her room. I was about to follow when a hand grasped my shoulder.

"Aletté's back." Anna-Maria said softly.

I frowned. "And…"

"Captain Sparrow isn't." She paused. "Neither is Gibbs. Aletté says, well, you'd better go talk to her."

I dashed upstairs.

Aletté was sitting on a crate looking distraught. She was gasping for breath (a sure sign she'd run here). Her fine blonde hair was blown about her face in total disarray.

"What happened?" I demanded.

She jumped. "Jack and Gibbs, they were loading things when a man came along with a pistol." She paused to gasp for air. "He had a monkey that stole all their weapons so they couldn't fight back. Now they're gone!"

I sank down beside her on the crate. Everything was happening too quickly for my liking. Elizabeth was having her baby, so William could not help us. Jack and Gibbs were gone, so there was no-one.

Except…

"Are we going or not?" Anna-Maria held out a pair of pistols to Aletté and I. So we took them, and Aletté guided us to The Tuna Shack, where she proceeded to explain everything that had happened.

Nothing she said could give any clue as to where we should be looking.

"Your looking to find Barbossa?" A dark-eyed, fiery red-haired woman stepped out of the shadows. "I can help you- maybe. I'm Torrennes Esile. I've been head hunting him for the colonies for over two-months now, sneaky little devil that he is."

"You're a pirate head-hunter?" Anna-Maria asked, a note of disgust in her voice.

"That I am, you got a problem with it?" She paused. "I can help you."

"And what do you want in exchange for your services, Esile?" Anna-Maria narrowed her eyes menacingly.

"One shot." She stage-whispered dramatically. "Just one shot that that bloody pirate. All my weapons are gone, thanks to his accursed monkey friend."

I suppose that sounded like a fair bargain to Anna-Maria. Torrennes Esile lead us through the winding streets of the Singapore port, to an outskirts dock. Whence we had successfully snuck aboard The Avenger, we realised our mistake.

Torrennes Esile is no head-hunter. She's one of Henson Barbossa's crew.

Which brings me to being shut in an overcrowded barrack-cell with Gibbs, Aletté, Anna-Maria, and Jack. There was barely room to stand.

Torrennes sauntered down to our below-deck prison in late afternoon to take over as our guard. Did she ever get her share of insults hurled at her!

Eventually I drifted off into uneasy sleep, leaning against Jack's shoulder. I was jolted awake when I felt him stand up. Everyone was getting up. The cell was open!

I pulled myself up and climbed out to the fog-covered deck. Henson Barbossa lay dead, bullet pinched to the brain. I shuddered. As Torrennes later explained to me, she needed to gain his trust (by bringing him us) before she could kill him quietly (as in without nobody noticing.)


	4. Days TwentyOne To ThirtyOne

Day Twenty-One,

Elizabeth had a baby boy! He is absolutely adorable! Will decided he should be called Jack. I had to stifle laughter when I heard this. The world is bad enough with just ONE Jack!

We got back to The Ebony Swann late. Torrennes came with us. Jack followed me to my room but I just told him "Goodnight!" and shut the door in his face. I was much too tired.

We left port in the dead of night for fear that The Avengers crew might make good of their ship's name and come after us as we slept.

Torrennes and I spoke this morning. She is quite kind and courteous. We talked about nothing in particular. She told me how head-hunting brings in great money, and I told her about how as far as jailers go, Jack was quite amazing. (he still is my jailer, you know I never thought of that!)

Day Twenty-Two,

I'm in a rower, slowly heading back to port alone and bitter. Life has a way of spiting me. But let me start where this all started.

Torrennes isn't just a head-hunter. I may be bitter but I will admit that I owe her. She must've decided that the best and most profitable option was to kill Jack quietly, just like she did to Barbossa. And she decided that since I was close to Jack, I was a good route to take.

This evening when Jack was in his room and I just happened to be emerging from mine, Torrennes walked in on Jack, intending to kill him. There was just one little flaw in her plan; he wasn't alone.

Anna-Maria was with him. And I mean 'with' him. I saw

That jackass! I hope he rots in hell! I've left The Ebony Swann. I never want to see him again. He may have hit on Aletté but this is different! He actually 'did' Anna-Maria! And not a day after me! I cant believe I ever thought he'd be faithful!

Day Twenty-Three,

When I awoke this morning I suddenly knew what I had to do. Jack may have tore me away from my old life, but I know of a way I can get back again.

Head-hunting.

And there's only one pirate I know I can get for sure. The last real legendary pirate on the sea. 

I'm going to kill Captain Jack Sparrow.

Day Twenty-Four,

"Where's Jack?" Elizabeth seemed startled. "Tell me!"

"He's below decks. I think in your old room, Morgan how did you get back here?" I clipped past her and dashed down the worn staircase I'd climbed so many times before. I opened the door to my room, pistol at the ready. There was Jack, looking despondent, sitting on my bed. He looked up when he heard me enter, and raised his hands (and eyebrows) in surprise. At the sight of him my whole body surged with anger, hatred, and confusion. I wanted to touch him, to love. But I also wanted to turn and run.

"I've missed you, luv."

I glared at him. "Why would you miss me, you've got Anna-Maria?"

We were both silent. "I-" he stammered, as if it were painful to speak.

"I love you."

It was the last thing I expected him to say. I felt weak in the knees again. My pistol fumbled in my hands. I staggered and almost fell.

He caught me. His touch made me tremble. I wanted to just lie there weakly in his arms forever, but I knew I couldn't. But I couldn't kill him either. And I know why. 

I'm in love.

Sad but true.

I leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear so that only he could hear. "I despise you, Captain Jack Sparrow."

Our cheeks brushed as I turned to leave, but his arms grabbed me gently at the waist.

He kissed me.

I just stood there, letting my lips be kissed, letting him hold me so tenderly. And then, for reasons unfathomable by mortal or god, I began to kiss him. I wanted to just freeze the world right there and never have to move on. When he stopped kissing me I whispered to him again. 

"This doesn't mean I don't still despise you." His arms loosened and just cradled me softly.

"Maybe this will change your mind." He kissed me again, longer and harder. He paused. "Forgive me." As we kissed , his hands slid from my back to my chest, and he began to gently undo my shift.

Not this time, Jack. I placed my hands on top of his to sill them. I re-tied my shift, and pulled away, leaving Jack looking puzzled.

I flew across the deck to the swan bearing. I sat there and cried as the sky around me grew dim. My cheeks stung with cold where tears had made them wet.

Love is a horrible thing. You cant help who you love, love just is. I don't know what I love him for. I cant seem to live without him, but he's a pirate. A traveller. A rouge.

He'll never marry me.

I wanted to hurl myself off the bearing and be crushed into the foam of the sea, but something tells me I have some idyllic, some heroine to play before my life ends.

I wish I was dead.

Suddenly Will climbed onto the bearing from around the swan's wings. He slid down into the seat beside me. I got up to leave but his hand stayed me. "Rotten weather."

"I suppose." I sighed. My voice sounded hollow and emotionless. I wasn't going to let him see me cry.

"So you came back." He continued, "I had a feeling Jack would draw you back here."

I scowled. "Jack had nothing to do with it! Well…" He did, though. I came back to square with him. "… its not what you think."

"Its exactly what I think." He said in an acid tone. "You love him."

I surged with anger in every part of my being. "Don't you EVER presume that you know what or whom I care for, William Turner." My voice sliced through the chilly air like a blade. "How would you know anyways? Just because I came back-"

He cut me off. "Doesn't mean you came back to love him." Pause. "You came back to hurt him, didn't you?"

Tears spilled from my eyes. "How do you know these things?" I choked through a sob. He drew close to me and placed his arms around me gently, but in a brotherly way. He didn't make me flutter like Jack, but he gave me comfort.

Comfort enough to make me spill my guts to him.

I told him everything, starting where this diary starts, and ending where he comes in, when we first kissed thirteen days ago.

I didn't tell him about spending the night with Jack. Twice. He doesn't need to know that.

After all was said and done we were quiet. "Can I ask you something?" I nodded. "Did you ever tell him that you loved him back?" I was about to nod, but I stopped myself. I never did. I never said anything even remotely LIKE I love you.

"I suppose I never did." I sighed.

"Do you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you love him?" He repeated.

"I… I don't know." My voice was racked with emotion.

"Then I suggest you figure that out before you two.. Well, before you go any further."

He meant before I sleep with him.

Too late, Will. Much too late

Day Twenty-Five,

I've said it before. I'll say it again. Life has a way of spiting me.

Everything I own (two shifts, three belts, a jacket, and a pair of old shoes) is packed away in a carpet bag. I'm leaving, and I should be happy. But I'm not.

It started this morning. Will burst into my room disgustingly early with rather shocking news; my father is in port looking for his "poor daughter who was kidnapped by pirates." Will asked me if I wanted to row myself into port, or if I wanted someone to help me. And then he added, almost as an afterthought, that I might want to stay.

But I'm an aristocrat. No matter how much I adapt, I'll always be one. I was brought up in a house were everything was structured and scheduled. I was taught by a private tutor. I've always had my own maid. And no matter how much I think I love Jack, he can never replace my family. He can never be the kind of man I could have children with.

To put it another way; I will never be Morgan Sparrow.

I'm not leaving because I cant be a pirate or I'm afraid of a new life. I'm leaving because it's the right thing to do. Because Jack keeps making me go crazy and because if I love someone I want him to be faithful and true, like Will. I want to have children and live a happy life and be a good mother. I want to be a wife.

And I want Jack.

But I want all these other things so much more, and he cant give them to me. He cant be a father or a faithful husband. Some people just aren't cut out to be.

Tomorrow Jack's rowing me to shore. I'm getting out at the outskirts of the port, and then I'm to wait an hour so that The Ebony Swann can be safely on its way before my father sends out his redcoats.

The first thing I'll do when I get home is have a hot bath. I haven't had one for a while. I'm putting this whole pirate episode out of my head. Its over. Its past. As fleeting as wind in the sails.

Day Twenty-Six,

This morning I said goodbye to Elizabeth and baby Jack in their room. Up on deck, Aletté and I had a rather vague but sad parting. Anna-Maria came to bid me adieu but I didn't really feel like having some sort of sisterly tearful goodbye with HER.

As I prepared to leave, Will ran up on deck for a last farewell. He must've sensed my heavy heart because he immediately hugged me, carpet bag, which did make me feel just a bit better. Its funny; at first I would have had anyone but him see me cry, but now I trust him more than anyone else.

All of the strangest days of my life have been grey and foggy. This was no exception. We rowed to shore in silence. He glanced at me the odd time, but I kept my eyes on the water gliding smoothly past the whitewashed sides of our rower. When we pulled up on an old gravel beach Jack jumped from the boat into knee-deep water and offered me his hand to help me out.

Once I was standing safely on the beach with my bag, he turned back to the boat and got ready to push off. Will's words had been echoing in my head. "Did you ever tell him you loved him back?"

"Jack?" My nails dug into my bag. He turned back to me and left the rower half-docked. I hesitated. "I cant love you."

He drew me close to him, stroking my cheek gently. "I figured as much, luv." He kissed me, but so lightly I could barely feel it. Then he turned and pushed the rower back out on the water.

I watched him disappear into the grey fog. I wanted to cry but my eyes were parched and dry.

Why is it so hard to say goodbye to the man who ruined my life?

Day Thirty,

For the last few days I've been to sad to write. I'm home. I'm safe. I'm with my family. I must admit that I was happy to see them -especially mother- but not happy enough to forget about Jack. I miss Will and Elizabeth too, but especially Jack.

Have you ever wondered if maybe doing the right thing is sometimes the wrong thing to do? I've been thinking a lot lately. Maybe I should've stayed. Maybe I should've run after him. But I didn't. And now I'm at home in an airy and scenic town in the southern bay. Sad. And alone.

Day Thirty-One,

I'm restless. I've taken to pacing my bedroom over and over during the day. I've read and re-read this diary time and time again. At night I cannot sleep. I lie awake and replay everything in my mind. Last night I got up in that witching hour between night time and dawn when the sky turns that murky grey colour. I made my way down to the shore. The water lapped silently at the smooth and worn rocks.

I missed Jack. 

I suppose standing on that gravel beach with a warm fog billowing off the dark waters brought me back. I could almost see Jack rowing away in the distance. Rowing back to his ship. Back to his life. And out of mine.

Tears spilled down my cheeks. 

"Forgive me." I whispered to the night.

And it did. The night forgave me. Fate forgave me. I could see someone, now, rowing into shore. It was a man, judging by the set of his shoulders. I took a few timid steps backward. And then I saw it; his hat. Jack's hat. He was close enough that I could make out the distinctive shape of his hat.

"Jack?" I cried out across the waters. He stopped rowing. His boat drifted slowly toward the shore. I could see him through the fog now. Not clearly, but clear enough to recognise him by. He stepped out of the boat into knee-deep waters.

"Morgan?"

At the sound of his voice I ran toward him. My dress became horribly heavy and its excruciatingly hard to run in knee-deep water, but I didn't care. I ran to him and flung myself into his arms.

He fell backwards into the water, and I fell on top of him. "Jack!" I laughed. I was soaked and freezing cold but his arms were so warm.

I kissed HIM this time. It was the only time I'd ever kissed him first. When we stopped he picked me up and spun me around by the waist. "So have you made a decision, luv?"

"About what?"

"About me." He answered.

I giggled and whispered in his ear. "I despise you, Captain Jack Sparrow."

He lifted me off the ground and kissed me softly.

"I love you." I whispered.

A light flickered coming down the hill from the port. My father's voice was calling in the distance. Jack helped me into the boat and began to row away. As we did, Papa stepped onto the beach, candle in hand, calling my name with only echoes to answer him.

I waited until we were safely engulfed in fog and out of earshot before I spoke.

"Why did you come back?"

He looked surprised. "Well the dearest captain of The Swann decided you were best left to your own devices and let go, so I had to commandeer a new ship, didn't I luv?"

"What ship?"

"A nice big one. A real powerful flagship. Maybe you've heard of it, 'The Imprintor'."

My jaw dropped. "The Imprintor?" He nodded. "You stole my father's ship?" I began to laugh. "Oh he is going to EXPLODE!"

We laughed and he gently pulled me over to him by the waist. I lay my head against his shoulders.

We reached The Imprintor quicker than I'd expected. Went to my usual room. Jack followed me.

I turned around, kissed him and said "Goodnight Jack." The crew didn't see, and it deterred him from following me any further. How much energy does he think I have?


	5. Days ThirtyTwo To ThirtyEight

Day Thirty-Two,

This you have to see to believe. I'm getting married. Yeah, I know it's the least likely thing, but it's the truth! And how it happened is stranger than fiction…

When I went upstairs this morning, everything was just as Papa always had it. I dragged the supply crate out from inside the old armoire and grabbed a can of dried salt meat. I'd only just sauntered over to the table when I felt arms slide around me from behind.

"Sleep well, luv?" Jack's voice said from behind me. I spun backwards to face him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed me softly and quickly. "I'll get you some breakfast if your hungry." We kissed again.

"Thank-you." I smiled. He leaned me back over the table and kissed me again. And again. And again. And then he began to undo my dress. I stilled his hands. We kissed again. And again he tried to undo the lacing up the front of my beige shift.

I placed my hands over his but he didn't stop. I didn't want him to make love to me. I wanted us to be married. Or at least intending to be. He still wasn't stopping. I spun onto my side. He fell from the table and landed painfully on the floor, knocking down several chairs in the process.

"What was that for?" He winced in pain and brushed himself off. I glared at him and indignantly began to re-tie my dress. "Right…" he said, "I'll go make breakfast then."

After he'd served us both small plates of salt meat and dried corn, we began to eat. Silently.

I felt like I owed him an explanation. He had no clue as to why I was keeping him at such a distance. He had a right to know. "I'm sorry." I said quietly. He smiled, and I knew I was forgiven. "I just wanted us to be married before I… before we…"

His smile faded. "Married?"

"Yes."

"Uhhh…"

"Jack?" I pried.

He put down his fork. "I cant commit like that."

I bit my lip. "But Jack…" My voice faltered and trailed off. He looked at me with his sweet puppy-like eyes. My heart began to melt, but I needed an answer. "If you don't plan on marrying me then why did you come back for me?"

"Because…" he paused, "I love you."

Somehow these words didn't sound quite as genuine as the first time he said them. I dug my nails into my sash. "Well if your not serious about being FAITHFUL to me then there's no point in me staying." I stood up.

Jack sighed. "Your not making things any easier, Miss Land." he said coolly. 

"When did I ever?" I paused. "I need a commitment from you."

He stood and stared at me longingly. "Okay," he breathed, "Fine."

I smiled an icy kind of pupated smile. "Fine."

"Fine." he said a bit louder.

"Fine!" I cried.

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

I turned on my heel and stormed from the dining room, my skirt swishing behind me.

And now I'm getting married.

Funny old world, isn't it?

Day Thirty-Three,  
This evening I wanted to be alone, but The Imprintor has a rather sparsely-trimmed bearing, so I went and sat in the crow's nest. It's a bit too windy up there. My dark wavy hair blew around my face wildly.  
"Bloody wind!" I turned around to see Jack standing behind me, his dark dreadlocks blown about, making him bear a strange and ironic resemblance to a sparrow.  
"You can sit down if you want." I said as I slid over to make room for him.  
"Actually, luv," he paused and held out his hand. "stand up." I took it and he pulled me awkwardly to my feet.  
Once I was standing he dropped to his knees and looked up at me, his brown eyes making my heart flutter. "I love you, Morgan." It was the first time he'd said my name right to me. It made me want to kiss him so badly. He clasped my hands and slipped a somewhat bulky pewter ring onto my left ring finger. I gasped and admired it for a moment. Then I noticed the crew watching from the deck below.  
"Jack…" I said softly, "would you mind getting off your knees?" He stood up, and as he did so his arms slid around me and held me close to him. "You didn't have to do this." I whispered to him.  
"You could've told me that." He leaned close to me and kissed me softly. I heard someone whistle from below. He let me go and I blushed. Then I examined my ring more closely. It was a pewter rose with a tiny fiery red crystal inset in the centre of the flower. The band was shaped into two sweeping leaves. It was beautiful.  
I never thought I'd say this, but I'm in love, and I'm happy. Really, truly happy.  
I am in love with Jack Sparrow. 

Day Thirty-Four,

This morning I woke up to a horizon not entirely empty. Its been told to me that Jack has the gift of tracking, and thus we found the Ebony Swann so very quickly. No sooner had high-noon past, when Will sought me out.

I probably should explain that our ships are joined with a gangplank, and our sails are down, so we're not going anywhere very fast.

Back to my original point; Will came to find me. We climbed up to the bearing where we've spoken so many times before. But this time he was the one in need of guidance.

"What's wrong?" I asked. His eyes looked so troubled.

"I…" he hesitated, "I love Elizabeth, don't get me wrong here. Its just…"

"Just?"

"Ever since SHE came on board she's been in my thoughts."

"She?"

He sighed. "Aletté."

"Oh." I said. "But what about Elizabeth, Will? Don't you love her more?"

"I… I don't know if I love her more, or maybe I just feel in her debt."

"In her debt?"

"Because of baby Jack." He paused thoughtfully, "I just don't know where to go from here. The whole IDEA of true love…" he trailed off.

"True love?" I questioned, "Like whether your love was the second girl or the first?" He nodded. "Will, I think you really love Elizabeth. And you know, underneath everything, love is a choice."

"Is it, Morgan?" He interrupted me. "Do you really believe that?"

I stared intently at my ring and wondered if maybe you don't get choices as far as love goes. Jack kidnapped me, tore me away from my old life, plundered everything I had, got me shipwrecked on an island, and nearly cost me my life. Did I love him despite all that, or was that WHY I loved him?

"Will," I said softly, "you have an obligation to Elizabeth and to your son. I don't think you really love Aletté. I think your just scared of a new life and your emotions want to jump ship."

We were silent for awhile. Then Will spoke. "Thank you." He looked so broken. His shoulders sagged and his eyes held an awful tormented look, like a caged bear. I reached over and hugged him tightly, feeling his pain as I did so. I desperately wanted to free him from his torment, but there was nothing I could do but listen.

What I didn't know as I sat there with Will, was that Jack could see us from where he stood on the crows nest of The Imprintor. And from where he stood, he thought I had kissed Will.

Day Thirty-five,

Everything is so mixed up, when yesterday it was so clear. How could I have known something like this would befall me?

When I went to find Jack yesterday after my conversation with Will, he seemed distant, sort of removed. He wouldn't kiss me. He wouldn't touch me. It was all I could do to get him to talk to me, and when he did, his answers were vague and nonchalant.

So left him to his own devices for a while. Maybe he just needed some space. But when I went to find him later, I only just spied him through the frosted glass windows of the dining room.

I saw enough. Him and Aletté on top of each other says enough in itself. But I didn't echo past instances; I didn't fly into a blind rage. I went and waited on the bed in his room.

Not a minute later, he joined me, looking distraught. "I said I needed a commitment from you!" I shouted the second he entered.

He stared at me as if he was looking down on me, the same way one might look at a dead rat. The same way my father would look at Jack. "Maybe I should've asked the same of you." He said evenly.

"You wouldn't have to ASK me, it wouldn't make a difference."

"You don't have to prove that, luv."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" I demanded.

He glared at me. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart. "I saw you and your dearest William." He paused, and then went on with a touch of malice in his voice. "Tell me, did you throw yourself at him to spite me, or was it Elizabeth you were trying to hurt?"

I wanted to murder him. "Who are YOU to talk about infidelity?" I hissed, "You cant go ten minutes without trying your luck on the barmaid. Were you trying to make me jealous or did you just want to spite Will?"

He frowned. "What does Will have to do with Aletté?"

I clapped my hand over my mouth and gasped. Why did I let that slip? I fought the urge to pull out my pistol and threaten him to secrecy. Maybe his anger would make him forget.

It didn't. He started to get confused. "Wait, if will loves Aletté then why did he kiss you, luv?"

"Will didn't kiss me!" I said, puzzled at his statement. "I HUGGED him because… well, never mind why, but I don't love him and he doesn't love me. He loves Elizabeth and up to a few moments ago I thought I loved you!"

His eyes became gentle again. I sank down onto his bed and sighed in exhaustion. He spoke. "You didn't kiss the blacksmith?"

I shook my head. "You didn't kiss the barmaid?"

He sank down on the bed beside me. She spilled all the rum!" He paused and looked at me longingly. "Bloody hell, I was trying to save some and-"

"Yeah, okay, I understand." I drew close to him and his arms held me tight around the waist. "We fight too much for our own good." He laughed. I twisted my ring around on my finger, and the fiery crystal glinted in the light from his foggy window.

Then he kissed me and began to undo the lacing of my dress. And this time I didn't stop him.

Day Thirty-Six,

When I was sixteen my parents decided it was time for me to marry. They betrothed me to a young captain named Geoffrey Royale. He was rich, handsome, respected, educated, and only four years older than me. Oh, and he was the most conceited man I had EVER met! So thus came about my refusal to wed him. English women might be treated like property, but Irish women are free. And thank God.

Today I realised why we never sail slowly. A navy fleet gained on our petty two-ships, catching us around noon. Enter Geoffrey Royale, now a commodore, and an asshole to boot. He boarded the Ebony Swann first, and then The Imprintor.

He lined us all up on the deck of The Swann, and strolled pompously down our ranks, pausing when he got to me.

"Well, well." He said in a sinister voice, "Morgan Land. I expected I'd find you on one of these bilge-rat ships, though I cant say I'm not surprised."

I scowled. "Go home, Geoffrey."

He smiled and cocked one eyebrow haughtily. "And why would I do that?" He looked me up and down. I gritted my teeth.

"Your way out of your league here."

It was true; no matter what kind of impossible situation we ended up stuck in, Jack had luck, and that's something that always wins out over logic in the end.

"Indulge me," Geoffrey continued, "how do you, small, innocent Morgan Land being who you are and a woman on top of all that, possibly merit any control over myself or my men?"

I smiled, a bitter, mocking smile. "I've always been able to control YOU. Now get out of here before I make this your dying day." His crew catcalled my threat, as if it had come from a child.

Geoffrey stopped smiling. "Your fathers been sending out legions of ships. If its not me who catches you it'll be someone else. Your mother would be just as worried," he paused, "were she alive."

I didn't know what to say. On one hand, he could be lying, but I knew, somehow, that he wasn't. Mother hadn't been in good health when I left. It made sense…

He continued his 'speech' bitterly. "She died of fever not four days ago. Isn't it tragic that her only daughter didn't see it fit to be there by her side?" I grabbed the handrail and gasped for breath. He drove on mercilessly. "I find this all very fetching. It almost makes me wish you were this strong-willed when I had you." His crew catcalled me again.

I wanted to slap him, but that would bring about unfavourable consequences. I bit my lip. "With all due respect, commodore, you've never had me."

He scowled. "Well perhaps that can be arranged then." His goons grabbed me and dragged me towards him. Jack lashed out at him and it took seven men to hold him back. I kicked and struggled, but there were four of them and one of me, and I was in a dress.

Geoffrey came closer to me. I scowled. "You sicken me." He drew me against him, and suddenly I had a flash of idea. I reached into his holster, grabbed his pistol and shot him in the gut.

No hesitation.

Nothing.

What happened after that is a blur. I shot several other redcoats, and the crew did their usual incomparable combat. After a long and tiring while we were able to slip away from the fleet, thanks to a favourable change in the wind. Gibbs has a broken leg, and one man died. Jack's hand is badly hurt, but I bandaged it for him this evening.

The crew is mourning the loss of one man. I am mourning the loss of my mother.

This evening the poor fallen sailor was given a true pirates funeral. His shrouded body was thrown into the sea. This was also the fate of Torrennes, I am told, who was killed by Jack in blind fury. Except that her body wasn't shrouded and nobody mourned there loss.

I feel like a black widow spider. Every man who's ever loved me, I've killed. Therego Jasper and Geoffrey. Which makes me wonder if I will ever kill Jack. Lord, I hope not. I'm not sure what I'd do without him.

Day Thirty-Seven,

I'm cursed. Poor Jack, his hand is badly hurt. I bandaged it for him but it must twinge painfully whenever he moves it because he holds his arm at an odd angle now. Its all my fault! He only lashed out at Geoffrey because he wanted to protect me.

I tied up his hand with a piece of fabric from my sash and a stiff pole, but I wish I could heal it. He lies when he says it feels fine, because he didn't put his arms around me when I kissed him this morning. And he ALWAYS does that.

I fell so bad.

Day Thirty-Eight,

Now I feel worse.

I feel guilty because, well let me explain. Jack cant do much with his right hand, so he needs help opening food tins (among other things). And today I went to stroll the decks with Will. As we spoke, a little voice in my head told me I needed to go help my fiancé, my love, but I wanted to speak with Will so much more than I wanted to see Jack.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph did I just write that?

Maybe I'm just being stupid. I love Jack. I know that. And besides that, Will's married. Yes, yes I'm just fooling myself. Its stupid, really. I'm just having doubts, that's all. Jitters and doubts. That's normal… isn't it?


	6. Days ThirtyNine And Forty

Day Thirty-Nine,

I am a horrible person.

I was sitting on the bearing with Will today. He was spilling to me about how Aletté has been in his thoughts less and less the more he talks to me about her. I wasn't listening, though who could tell? I smiled and said "Uh-huh" in all the right places, but I was preoccupied.

Very preoccupied.

I was thinking about how Will's deep brown eyes are beautiful, like Jacks. I was thinking about how he speaks so eloquently, how he's so faithful and true. And honest. I thought about how much I would love to love him. And then suddenly that voice in the back of my head yelled at me to be reasonable.

I began to feel guilty. Really, really guilty. Jack was injured because of me. And when I should be helping him, here I was sitting next to someone, thinking about how much I loved them. And not in any brother-sister way either.

Will must've sensed my tension because he fell silent for a moment. "Morgan?" he prompted, "What's wrong?"

I had to know. Had to figure out if I loved him or not, if I loved him the same way I loved Jack. I had to quiet the little voice in the back of my head. And there is only one way to do that. One bloody bad way.

"Will," I said quietly, "I…" How could I explain this to him? "I…" He looked concerned. "I want you to forgive me."

And then I kissed him softly.

He didn't kiss me back. He was almost frozen in shock. I could feel it. And I knew the moment my lips brushed his that I loved Jack and nobody else.

Guilt took over. I pulled away from him, flew down from the bearing, and headed to find Jack. I feel so awful. Why did I have to do that? Why did I have to kiss one man to realise my undying love for another? I found Jack out on the stern. He greeted me normally, but I felt like a massive storm cloud had gathered over me. And once again, I know how to make it go away.

I have to tell him, God damn it.

Day Forty,

All hell has broken loose.

Jack hates Will, Will hates Jack, Elizabeth hates me, I hate Elizabeth who in turn hates Will, and yet Jack doesn't hate me. Which, by and by, makes me feel worse.

It started this afternoon, when I went down to Elizabeth's room with a note from Will. I knocked softly so as not to wake the sleeping baby Jack. She called from inside and asked who was there. When I said my name, she yelled "Go away!"

I paused. "I have a note for you from Will."

"Go throw it in his face!"

I slid the door oven a crack. "Is everything alright?"

She sniffed. "Get off my ship." When I didn't move, she spoke again, fiercely. "Don't EVER come near my husband again, now get OFF MY SHIP!" I surged with inexplicable anger. She saw me? I wanted to kill her for spying on me in the only place I thought I could be alone.

"You, Elizabeth Swann," I said angrily, "need to learn civil speech."

"And you, Morgan Land," she snapped back, "need to learn to stay with one man." I clenched my fists. "I swear, you and Jack are so alike.

My lip quivered feebly. "Please don't tell him."

"Why not?"

"You wouldn't… would you?" Fear grasped me. I didn't want Jack to know. Or at least I wanted to be the one who told him.

"I would." she breathed menacingly. And just as I thought my troubles were topped, enter Will and Jack.

"What's wrong?" Will ran to his wife but she pushed him away.

"Don't touch me. Go away, both of you."

Jack raised his hands questioningly. "But I can stay?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Mr. Sparrow, I presume Morgan has not told you, then?"

"What?"

And just like that, she told him. His eyes turned from her to me, sort of pleading.

"Jack!" I gasped, "Jack-"

"I'm not angry, luv." He said softly, making me feel even worse. He turned to Will. "Never would've expected it outta you, mate." He shook his head disapprovingly.

"I never kissed her." Will spat.

"Oh really?" Elizabeth cocked one eyebrow.

"He didn't." I said. "He never did anything." Jack stared at me. "Jack I'm so sorry! I love you! I'm sure now that I-" He turned and left. As I watched him go, I noticed the painful angle at which he carried his right arm. All my fault…

Elizabeth slapped Will, and he desperately tried to explain. I turned to leave, then paused. "He didn't kiss me back, Elizabeth Swann, though your too pig-headed to care." And with that, I strode from the room.

I found Jack fumbling with the canned provisions in the dining room. His hand was cut where the sharp edge of the metal had sliced against his skin. I untied my belt and wet it in a water barrel. Then I gently took his hand and bandaged it again, leaning over my work, my black wavy hair falling into my face as I did so. He pushed it back with his good hand.

"We're even now, luv." he smiled at me and twisted a strand of hair around his fingers. "You squared the debt." I smiled back. He kissed me softly, but I stopped him.

"I still need to finish with your hand."

But he kissed me again. I felt so… well, I don't know how I felt. Like I was so in love, and so forgiven. Like I never wanted to know anything but him; his kiss, his touch.

"We come into port tomorrow, luv." He said. "It would be nice if I didn't have to raid it all by my onsies like every other time." He paused and kissed me again. "Care to come?"

I smiled. "I'd love to." When I finished tying up his bleeding hand, I kissed it gently. He placed his hands on mine. "Where did you come from?" I asked suddenly.

"Same place as you, luv," he paused dramatically. "the horizon!"

I laughed. "No really." I- well, I just realised I know nothing about the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow." He smiled at my request but said nothing. "Please?"

Why don't you tell me YOUR story?" He toyed.

"Only if I get yours in return."

He smiled. "We'll see."

That was as good a bargain as I was going to get. "Fine," I sighed. "I was born in England, and my mother sent me to be schooled in Belfast-"

"Explains your accent." He interrupted.

"-at a finishing school." I continued. "My parents crossed to the Caribbean three years ago, and then my mother sent for me. She said she missed me too much."

"And Geoffrey?" he pried.

"Geoffrey? Oh he's history. I was engaged to him when I was sixteen, but my rights as an Irish woman let me choose. So I called it off. And my parents were none too happy." I paused, "Now you tell me."

"Not so fast." he said, "What about Jasper Hughes, luv? Where does he come in?"

I was surprised that Jack remembered Jasper. So surprised, in fact, that I just told him without thought. "Well…" I paused, "I met him at Belfast harbour. I knew him a bit, and when his father captained our ship, I got to know him a lot more-"

"That must've been fun."

"Oh get off it!" I snapped.

"Did you ever-?" He trailed off and raised his eyebrows.

"Ever what?" I knew what he meant but I didn't want to answer.

"Did you two ever-?" He waved his hands suggestively.

"Does it matter?" Why did he care? Why was he asking me this?

"Just answer."

I raised my eyes level to his and smiled wryly. "We may have." I could tell he was surprised. Maybe he thought Jasper had just been courtly love. Whatever it was, he couldn't hide his astonishment. "Now tell, Sparrow. Where did you come from?"

"Not so fast." He paused and looked me straight in the eyes. I trembled. "With all this Jasper and Geoffrey, riches and power so to speak, why this? Why me?"

I wondered the same thing. Why did I choose this over my old life? Why Jack over Jasper? "Well…" I frowned, "I supposed that's true love." He scoffed at my explanation. "What?" I asked, "You don't believe in true love?"

"Never have, never will."

I tossed my head and fingered his beads coyly. "Well then, " he stared at me the way a dog begs for table scraps. "how do you explain us? What's between us?"

His answer was plain and simple. It kind of dismantled my faith in fate and destiny. "Large and inexplicable quantities of lust." It wasn't the answer itself that bothered me, it was the fact that he could be right- that we might not be in love at all. But maybe that'll change. And maybe I can weasel his history out of him somehow. I don't know why, I just have to know!

"You ruined my life, you know." I said bluntly. "You changed everything." He looked at me with puppy eyes, but I wasn't done yet. " Why would I fall in lust with you, after all you've done?"

"Because, luv," we kissed. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?" He reached for the lacing of my dress but I stopped him.

"Your not very tactful, Captain." I said indignantly. I rose and left the room. And thus I sit, alone, and write. Its not that I don't want Jack. Its just that I want him to answer my questions, and this is the only bargaining chip I've got.


	7. Days FortyOne And FortyTwo

Day Forty-One,

Its been a month since I first kissed Jack while we were fishing off the rower. A lot has changed since then. Take today; Jack shook me awake at the crack of dawn. Not a soul was up yet.

"What?" I yawned.

"Coming, luv?" he said flourishingly. "We're at port."

I stumbled out of bed and stood up grudgingly. Waking up early has never been my forte, so to speak. Jack took my hand and headed for the door.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I'm not even dressed yet!" I was in my nightdress. Its decent, but I'm not about to go trudging all over town in something petty, light, and sleeveless.

He looked me up and down drunkenly. "Cant say I've ever seen you wear much more than that." He raised his eyebrows suggestively and I blushed. "Right, then." he turned his back and strode from the room.

When I had dressed, I joined him. He paused a moment to stare at my new sash. Its light blue, the exact colour of my bed sheet. Probably because it was once part of my bed sheet. Call me crazy but I just cant stand wearing a shift all on its own. It makes me feel under clothed. 

We climbed into a rower. Jack took both oars but twinged in pain when he tried to row, so I slid onto the bench beside him and took the right oar. He looked surprised for a few moments, then put his now free arm around my waist. 

I never enjoyed rowing so much.

Whence we had docked in port he took me by the hand and lead me through the town. It was small, to be sure, but it had all the amenities of a bust port. Traders, thieves, and redcoats alike flocked to and from the countless taverns. Ladies in corsets strolled the avenues, while drunken men in tattered clothes lay sprawled in the alleyways.

Jack knew the town inside out, strolling from this establishment to that, greeting a few men he met along the way and indiscreetly avoiding certain others. We stopped at a breezy tavern that overlooked the cliffs out to the ocean. It was filled to the bursting with traders and merchants, drinking but not yet drunk. Jack made his way to the bar, and I followed uncomfortably.

"Emmaleanna!" He called to the barmaid. She whirled around, a bottle of port in her hand.

"Jack!"

"How's the fort been holding?"

"Fine I suppose." She glanced at me. Jack noticed, and pulled me through the bar entrance into the back room, Emmaleanna following. As soon as the door swung shut, she rounded on him.

"Where have you been?" She demanded. He grabbed my hand. "You know its been five years since I last saw you. FIVE YEARS, Jack!" She paused. "Look I'll understand if something happens to you and you get delayed, but I'm no fool. We as good as buried your memory, and now you show up here like this? What kind of person are you?"

He smiled. "Pirate."

She stared at me disapprovingly. "Who's she?"

Jack put his arm around my waist. "Emmaleanna, this is Morgan."

"Another one of your whores?"

I glared at her. "I'm his fiancée."

Emmaleanna seemed shocked. "YOU are getting MARRIED?" She laughed. "Jack, you wont last a day!"

"Emmaleanna," he cautioned, "Please."

She sighed. "What do you want this time, Jack?"

"Just thought I'd come by and say hello to my dear baby sister."

I stared, dumbstruck. I never thought of Jack as having a sister, much less someone like HER. She was rude and low-class, she swore, she yelled, she stank of rum and tobacco, and she was noting like Jack.

No, wait, she's exactly like Jack.

We spent the night in the rooms above the tavern. Jack stayed downstairs and spoke with Emmaleanna, while I sat upstairs and wrote the days events into my journal.

This seriously skews my whole perspective on just who Jack is. Tomorrow I'll make him tell me about his past. If he refuses, I'll force him in the only way possible.

I may not kiss him again for some time.

Day Forty-Two,

When I woke up this morning, I couldn't find my dress. Emmaleanna lent me a gorgeous nightdress to wear. It has billowy sleeves and a chiffon skirt. But I wanted my dress, and it wasn't lying draped over the headboard of my whitewashed four-poster bed where I'd left it last night. So, naturally, I went off to find Emmaleanna.

Jack must've found her first.

I have a habit of dropping in on private conversations. I swear I don't do it on purpose. I'm just strolling down the hallway and suddenly I hear my name mentioned in the next room. Anyone would've stopped to listen. Emmaleanna and Jack were arguing. Not loudly, but loud enough.

"You cant marry her, Jack." I heard her say. "Its more danger than its worth."

"More danger, aye?" He said. "If her father finds I'll be killed, and no two ways about it."

"If he finds you holding his daughter prisoner he'll have you hung, but if he finds you MARRIED to her then he'll shoot you then and there! You may be the worst man in the entire ocean, Jack, but I care about you. Don't do this."

There was an awkward pause. Then Jack spoke. "I'll do what I bloody well please, mate."

Emmaleanna sighed. What about her, Jack? You could be putting her in danger too."

"How's that then?"

"What if-" pause, "What if she's with child? Your child!"

I've never thought of that. It made me begin to worry. If everything happened as bleakly as Emmaleanna predicted it to, then my life wouldn't be worth living anymore. If I was left bearing his child while my father had him sent to the gallows pole, if Jack was gone and I were to go back to my old life, ridiculed and disgraced. I could never survive that.

"Jack?" Emmaleanna prompted. I crept silently to the door and peered through the massive keyhole. Emmaleanna was standing upright in a light green dress, her rough brown hair swept up into a bun at the nape of her neck. Jack was sprawled casually on the window seat, glancing out idly over the ocean.

"Look, why don't you go concern yourself with someone else's life, aye?" He mumbled.

"Answer my question!" She demanded.

"You never asked a question, mate."

"I implied it, now answer me!"

Jack turned to her and raised his eyebrows patronizingly. "What question would that be, exactly?"

Emmaleanna narrowed her eyes contemptuously. "You know my question, exactly."

He paused. "If you mean did I sleep with her then-" he sighed. "Yes, alright? Now can you please take your abnormally-" he waved his hands while searching for the right word. "spear-like nose out of my life?"

She turned to leave. I flew from the door silently, dashing back down the hallway to my own room. I could hear Jack's heavy footsteps coming down the hall behind me. A moment later he entered, just as I had pulled my blankets around me and flung myself down onto the Swiss idar pillows.

"Morgan?" he called softly. I faked sleepiness and sat up drowsily. "Morning, luv. Sleep well?" He strode across the room and offered me his hand to get out of bed. I took it, and he pulled me up.

"I slept wonderfully!" I said rapturously. He leaned in to kiss me buy I stepped back. "You still owe me your story."

"Uh-uh, I said I MIGHT tell you."

I turned away, making a point to look despondent. "Well," I said softly, "That's not fair." He reached for my hand tenderly, but I pulled away. I had to know.

"How 'bout I tell you something 'round the time I met you, aye luv? What say you to that?"

"When you sacked our ship?" I scoffed.

He reached for my hand again and drew me close against him. "Nay, remember?" I shook my head. "Back when I was captain of The Pinnacle?" Oh yeah.

I nodded. "I remember." He kissed me. A very long kiss.

"That was after I lost command of The Pearl." He paused for a moment, and I could see in his eyes how much he misses his old ship. "The Pinnacle was just a step back towards The Pearl. I owed a year of service to the rum runners for pulling me off that goddamned island. Jennings Bay was my route, and Port Crowne decided to start policing it. Remember?"

I nodded. "I remember." He kissed me again, longer and harder this time. As the kiss broke, I said, "I remember giving the flagship's crew the order to blast the hell outta your ship." He laughed. "You were awful to us, you know."

"I know." He muttered. "But I think I hold some sway in pointing out that I was never profane directly to you, aye? Just to aristocracy in general." We kissed. "And people change."

I sighed. "Maybe eight years is long enough to admit you might've changed." His arms loosened around my waist. "Or maybe I changed."

He caressed my cheek softly. "Forgive me." He whispered. We kissed for a long time. A very, very long time. He gently drew my nightdress down around my shoulders. I began to undo his belt. Then we both stopped at the sound of shoes clattering down the hallway.

I pulled my nightdress back up as the door swung open. Anna-Maria entered, shocked and slightly embarrassed at the sight of Jack and I so hurriedly dressed.

"Captain Sparrow," She said. "Mr. Turner wants to leave port soon."

"Aye," He nodded. "Tell him we'll be there by noon." She nodded and left the room. He turned back to me. "Well that was interesting."

I re-adjusted my nightdress. "We should go." His bandanna was crooked and his belt half undone. "Jack?" I pried.

"Blast damn Turner." He cursed under his breath. Then he turned back to me. "Got what you need, luv?"

"I still need my dress."

He kissed me. "Emmaleanna'll have it." He paused. "Not sure where she's run off to." I placed his hat back on top of his head and left to search out my dress.

Two hours later we were back on the Imprintor and ready to leave. There was just one very small problem; Emmaleanna wouldn't let Jack go.

She stood, feet planted firmly on the wooden deck of the Imprintor, refusing to leave. Jack wont take her from port with us. I suppose he still thinks of her as his baby sister, like he's morally obligated to protect her or something. I didn't bother pointing out that she's four years older than me- this is one of those psycho family things that are more fun to watch than they are to rake part in.

"I'm not leaving, Jack!" Emmaleanna declared. "The last time I let you sail away you didn't come back for five years!"

He waved his hands in frustration. "Please?" He begged. I watched from the sidelines with the crew. Its not every day we get such a cruel yet comedic drama in our midst. "I promise if you let me leave I'll be back within the year!"

"Let me come with you!" She demanded.

"Emmaleanna-" He stammered angrily. "Bloody hell you cant come!"

"Because I'm too young?" She asked.

"Yes!"

"Jack, I'm three years older than Morgan." She said flatly.

"Four." I cut in.

He turned to me and frowned. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three." I replied.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then turned back to his sister. "You," He waved his arms, frustrated at her stubbornness "are _not_ coming!"

"You," She cried. "are not either!" Pause. "Jack, I've waited too long to have you back home again. You left right after Liam died. I'm not losing you to the ocean, too. Not this time."

He sighed. "Blast damn you cant come!"

"Captain Sparrow?" Anna-Maria interrupted. "Mr. Turner has already left. If you keep arguing any longer we'll have a lot of catching up to do."

"Right. On deck, then, you scabberous dogs!" He turned from his crew to Emmaleanna. "We're dropping you off in our next port, mate."

This should be quite interesting; Jack and Emmaleanna on the same ship for a good bulk of days. He'll be too preoccupied to concern himself with me, but the quality entertainment we get in return is unsurpassable


	8. Day FortyThree

Day Forty-Three,

I have found a way to bat out my boredom now that Jack is preoccupied with Emmaleanna- I have long, gossip-filled chats with that girl Aletté Malycho. She's a nice girl, is Aletté. A little sneaky, a bit of a big-mouth, but nice.

I struck up a conversation this afternoon as we sat idly on the railing of the stern. "So," I asked. "did you enjoy your stay in port?"

She laughed, a high, clear laugh. "Oh indeed, Miss Land. And from what I hear, you and our dear captain had quite a time yourselves." I looked at her questioningly . "Oh its all over the ship, Lady land. Ana walks in on Jack and Morgan going at it in his sisters hotel-"

"That's quite enough!"

Her face fell. "Oh please Miss Land, I'm sorry."

"Its fine." I said. "Really it is. Don't worry, and call me Morgan. I hate being called Miss Land or Lady Land or Lady Morgan. Its all too formal now."

She nodded. "I know what you mean. I used to- never mind." She looked away, and I couldn't manage to probe anything more out of her. What does Aletté hide behind those glittering eyes of hers? I will find out soon. I'm determined to know. Is she royalty? Is that what she was about to say?

My resolve is to know.


	9. Day FortyFour

Wow, so many reviews! Yay! And on my birthday, too. That's a nice sort of present, that is.

Well, here's more for you. My Swordplay notebook has gone missing- I think I left it at school over the Christmas break! Oh no! This will be bad- I shall just have to improvise.

Review Replies:

Elentari II-

Aletté came on board when the crew stopped in Singapore, day nineteen. She was only mentioned, though, but I thought I'd make her a bigger part of the story now. I'm almost done Morgan's diary- almost at the part where it joins up with Swordplay, so then I'll just do that one for a while. And I don't really care whether you spell it Aletté or Alette. Its all the same to me, really. 

FencingBabe7-

Will _is _cool isn't he? Yes, I understand my stories get a bit confusing, so bear with me. I'll try to put in more details in future.

Elven Vampire

Hahaha, yeah, it's a soap opera I guess. Well, POTC is just so easy to turn into a soap opera, I couldn't resist, mate.

Erin Richards-

Thanks for reviewing so much. And please write more of India and Jack. I'll try to update this more often, as I know I get lazy sometimes.

Lady Arien- 

You like my characters? Yay, I'm flattered, though I cant say I've got much of a storyline going here. I think its more just improv, but take it as you will. If you like it, maybe its just me being overly critical. You're such a great reviewer. Hey, did you see that, I wrote you're and not your? Yep, sorry, I wrote a lot of this a while ago when I was stupid. Which, I still am, but less so.

All reviewers- 

Thanks a bazillion for answering with constructive criticism. I like that better than just plain good reviews. And if you don't like something, please tell me because chances are I'll change it. Like the Will/Aletté thing- most of you didn't like that too much, so I altered it. Remember, this is your story, and its for your enjoyment, so don't be afraid to ask for changes!

Thanks again,

-SQ

***

Day Forty-Four,

Hah! I got it out of her! I've never had much nerve, so going up and talking directly _to_ Aletté about something I knew was very probably a touchy subject was a new thing for me. Very new. But I did it, and now I know something that puts that poor girl's whole life into perspective.

Before I forget it, I'll write down the important part- after I'd badgered her for what seemed like hours. Here, this is what our conversation consisted of;

I bounced into the room and giggled. "You still haven't answered my question, Aletté!"

"Oh go away." She snapped.

I sobered. "Oh, c'mon, you know I've been through trails myself. You can tell me."

"You'll take it to the grave?" She asked shakily.

I nodded. "Till my dying day."

She sighed. "I've been wanting to tell someone- I think I _can_ trust you." She dug her nails into her leather jacket "Here goes. My grandfather was the count of Sierrbo, Spain. My mother got pregnant when she was seventeen. Grandfather feared that this would bring shame to our family, so he suggested-well, no- he _commanded_ that she marry a nobleman and pretend that I was his child. But mama was in love with a rogue sailor from Singapore, a man who had promised to look after her, too care for her. They ran away together on his ship, but when he arrived in port, he left mama. Alone. 

"She was young. How is a young, sheltered aristocrat expected to survive the streets of Singapore? She had to sell herself, and then when I was fourteen, she took ill and died." Aletté paused and sniffed heartily. "Then I was alone. So, I had to work the streets just like she had. I sold myself to anyone- do you know how awful that is? Then, finally, I got a job as a barmaid in that place- The Tuna Shack. The man who owned it was like a father to me. When he passed away, he left it to me. And then, when Jack walked into my bar that day, I saw my way out of that hellish port. And I took it. That's all there is to it."

Can you believe that? I was so shocked.

"Oh Aletté…" I stammered. "You're so brave. I could never- I'm so sorry."

She smiled. "You get used to it."

Oh, my dear Aletté, how I have underestimated you! At first meeting, I thought of her only as a thick-headed, silly gossip with nothing behind her sparkling turquoise eyes. And now I have so much respect for her- she's gone through what I never could. 

Oh lord, did I just feel the ship rattle? What in God's name is going on? What is that- a musket just fired! We must be coming up on another ship- that is the signal to stop. But did it come from our ship, or someone else's? I must get up on deck- something tells me there will be little rest for the weary tonight.

***

Well, I hope you liked it. And you know the drill, please review. Its my birthday today and I got a Return of the King calendar. I love that movie. Did anyone else see it on the 17th? That was so cool- I dressed up as Eowyn, in her white dress, you know, the one at the beginning of the Two Towers? Well, anyways, please review seeing as how its my birthday! Yay! I'm finally the one age with my buds! My friends all tease me because I'm born so late in the year that I'm younger than the rest of them.

Well, I hope you liked it. Any ideas on Meryl/Morgan/Jack situation? I've only had, like, one solid reply to that. I love hearing ideas on where you think the story should go.

Thanks a bunch.

Yours forever,

-SQ


	10. Day FortyFive

Okay, I know there's a whole shitload of characters here already, but let me introduce just one more! And I must warn you, this diary will soon end and connect with Swordplay, so be on the lookout for a really lame ending. But don't worry, Swordplay will have a good ending that will tie up all the loose ends.

Just a quick note: If you like LOTR, I started a LOTR fanfic- just a short one- from the perspective of one of the young boys who had to fight at Helm's Deep. It's action/adventure/romance. Yeah, I know its kinda corny, but give it a try. I've never written a LOTR fanfic before so constructive criticism is more than welcome!

Review Replies are at the end of the chapter. 

***

Day Forty-Five,

I might as well go on out and pen these words, as nobody will believe them anyways: I am sitting beside my lifelong best friend, whom I haven't seen in just over a year, and we have just finished contemplating way to make Jack suffer. No joke.

Her name is Amber NiMurrough, and we met back at school in Belfast. She is eighteen and I'm twenty-three, but it doesn't matter, really. We've always been able to confide in each other. Until, that is, she met Sebastian DePiotiers, a nobleman from London, England, who was, at the time, nearing the age of sixty.

Talk about a generation gap.

They were engaged, and soon married. And with her marriage, Amber was whisked off to London to live there as an obedient and submissive housewife. But she wouldn't tell me why.

She was always so strong-willed, so rebellious. And she flat out refused to tell me why she was just going along with everything her parents commanded. Until now.

The difference is that now Sebastian is dead and Amber is a widow at eighteen. She heard that I was kidnapped, and was sailing her husband's warship down to the Caribbean to help search for me. Dear Amber, she's such a gentle heart! But she hates Jack with a fiery passion, and she has good reason. He is the reason she had to marry Sebastian DePiotiers. He is the reason she is a lonely widow at eighteen. He is the reason she had to waste just over a year of her life in the boring upper-cut London social ring.

I should write this down before I forget it all. She's been sketchy on the details, but this is what I can gather from a three-and-a-half-hour conversation in my stateroom;

On Amber's seventeenth birthday, she went to visit her parents in London. There she met Jack, in all his dashing glory. He charmed her instantly, and she fell for all his comments that she was beautiful, or that he loved her. Who wouldn't fall for that? But he was stupid enough to get caught by the Royal Navy, and poor Amber felt it was her duty to rescue him. She got him out of port on a small leaky vessel that he subsequently sailed to Port Royal in. (God only knows how he managed that!) He told Amber he would come back for her.

And so Amber married Sebastian so that she could stay in London and wait for Jack. Jack, who didn't even remember her, who was very probably out making love to a different woman every night. But Amber didn't know this, and so she waited…

When Sebastian died, Amber kept on waiting, until she heard news that I was kidnapped. And so she sacrificed what she thought was her only chance to get Jack back (waiting in London) to sail out and find me. Personally, I think Amber may have knocked her husband off herself, but what kind of insensitive wretch would ask a thing like that?

Poor, poor, poor Amber!

And so, Jack has been hiding in his quarters, not daring to come out for fear of my wrath. Or maybe Amber's wrath. I wonder which would be more fatal?

Oh, dear lord, it's _Jack_! He decided to come down to the one room on the ship where Amber and I were _both_ residing! Now, to give him hell…

Wait- Amber already is. 

I'll have to wait my turn…

***

Review Replies:

Thralinde-

Maybe if I get bored sometime, I'll write Aletté's story. Thanks a bunch for reviews- even little ones are nice to get. You saw ROTK on the 17th? Yeah, right on! Die hard fans rule the world!

FencingBabe7-

My dad kicks me off the computer all the time. *grumbles* Yeah, this story just never ends, eh? It _is_ a soap opera! Hah! Its even more detailed now, hope you can keep track. I love LOTR. In fact, I have a short LOTR fanfic up now. Its not finished, though.

Lady Arien-

I still don't think there is a storyline, but whatever you say. Yeah, Aletté has a sad life, eh? *mumbles* Poor, poor smeagol… (haha, sorry, I'll stop) Thanks for a birthday review! Yay!

chibichibi386-

Yay! I'm happy. You've got me on your favourites list? You're the best!

All reviewers-

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you! I love you guys! Please keep reviewing, I'll keep posting I promise!


	11. Day FortySix

**__**

A VERY IMPORTANT AND CRUCIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I have reached a point in this story where you know everything you need to know to connect this fic with it's sequel, Swordplay. 

The story continues, except in third-person narrative, not as a diary.

I know this is a crappy ending, but please try to understand that really it's **NOT** the ending, that it's just the **START** of Swordplay, also up and running for those of you who don't know!

Swordplay **IS** this story _continued_, just in third-person!

**__**

Please forgive me!

Now I can only beg and hope for your understanding…

***

Day Forty-Six,

I am writing this on the back cover of my journal. Would you believe it- the second page of this notebook must have fallen out, and as a result, the second-last page is gone too. I'm out of paper! Perhaps Jack will be able to lend me some- though I'm not sure if he's at all literate.

This book is unbelievable. I should burn it, for fear of what might happen if Jack were to find it. Or anyone, for that matter. Forty-six days have never seen such change as this. It feels as if I have reached a horrible conclusion, as if this is the ending to all my adventures.

Though in my heart, I feel they have barely begun…

__

-THE END-

***

****

PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!

I AM FULLY AWARE THAT THAT **COMPLETELY SUCKED**, BUT ITS NOT LIKE IM NOT CONTINUING THE STORY.

**__**

READ SWORDPLAY, YOU'LL SEE. EVERYTHING KEEPS GOING.

I have always had the utmost confidence in the integrity of my reviewers. You guys have always given only constructive, well-thought-out opinions that have done nothing but good. I trust that you will show the same quiet dignity in reviewing this story, as an ending and a whole. Please no flaming. Flaming doesn't help anyone. If you like this story, it continues. Just go to my profile and click on Swordplay. I promise you that that story will have a much better ending.

I can only hope that you have taken this to heart.

Criticism is more than welcome, but criticize in an adult, mature fashion. Negative comments can be made without their being _hurtful_ comments.

I trust you will maintain your dignity.

-SQ


End file.
